Scottish fare at McLemore Resort, plus bread pudding you have to try

Scottish Flavors at McLemore Resort: New Menu and a Must-Try Dessert

The headlines surrounding McLemore Resort over the past nine months have undoubtedly spotlighted the Georgian golf property’s second championship-caliber course, The Keep, which sparkles for how it evokes the firm-and-fast links courses of the Old Country. But more recently, McLemore’s hospitality executives injected the resort with another taste of Scotland — this time in a literal sense — as the property’s flagship steakhouse shifted its focus to become only the fourth French-Scottish restaurant in the world (and the first located outside of Scotland).

This culinary evolution at McLemore is part of a broader trend in golf resorts to enhance the guest experience beyond the course, offering unique dining opportunities that complement the sport. While The Keep challenges golfers with its links-inspired design, Auld Alliance promises to transport diners to a world of refined cuisine, blending French culinary traditions with distinct Scottish elements.

Auld Alliance: A French-Scottish Fusion

There was once a time, not too long ago, when the mention of Scotland conjured thoughts of kilts, bagpipes, links golf, and whisky. It did not bring to mind the country’s food, with the exception of haggis, though even then the dish was never spoken of with much affection. Simply put, the United Kingdom’s northern realms were culturally rich, but they weren’t known for their nuanced, upscale cuisine. Much has changed since then, as dining experiences in Scotland today are laden with distinctive fare and elevated culinary techniques.

You might say that McLemore Resort has tapped into that, though it’s also embraced the longstanding pact between France and Scotland that was formed in 1295. That’s the foundation of the resort’s flagship restaurant, Auld Alliance, which the resort describes as “French country cuisine with an auld twist.”

If you’ve been to Scotland anytime in the last two decades, a glance at the restaurant’s menu will intrigue you. Past the beverages section, which boasts pours of Belhaven Best, Innis & Gunn, Tennent’s Lager, and hazy IPAs from Scotland’s Brewdog, you might do a double-take when you see rumpledthumps (mashed potatoes mixed with cooked cabbage and onions, then baked and topped with cheese) and, if you’re like me, you’ll salivate over the proposition of a Laphroaig-washed 28 day dry-aged bone-in ribeye.

During the restaurant’s grand debut this spring, a handful of distinctly Scottish creations were prepared:

• The Foie Gras & Haggis Pithivier: This dish presented Scotland’s most famous meat-based dish in all of its herb-forward glory (you can probably tell that I have no problem eating haggis). The foie gras added a silky, decadent texture, while a peach and pecan dressing not only added sweetness and texture, it injected a touch of local flavor to the dish.
• Ocean Roast Monkfish Au Poivre: Even just the description of the restaurant’s Ocean Roast Monkfish Au Poivre somehow sounds Scottish. The presence of pepper predictably brought a nice spice element to the preparation, but it was the chicken butter sauce — a seemingly unusual accoutrement for a seafood dish — that delivered an appropriate richness that complemented the robust flavor and meaty texture of the fish, itself.
• The Whole Lamb: As the dish appears on the menu, it is not, in fact, a whole lamb. Instead, it’s petite portions of four distinct cuts or preparations of the protein: shoulder baked in hay and rosemary, a Scotch pie, an Asher Blue chop, and merguez — a spicy sausage with North African roots. The merguez was rustic, hearty, and texturally grainy, but in a positive way. The chop was everything I had hoped it would be — mild in flavor, moist, tender, and indulgent. Both the shoulder and the Scotch pie added an intriguing smokiness to the plate, which diversified the offerings.

Proof is in the Pudding at Saddlebrook Resort

Meanwhile, less than 500 miles to the south, just outside of Tampa, much has changed at Saddlebrook Resort, too. Major renovations, redesigns, and a rerouting of golf holes have turned the property’s previous pair of courses into a far more dynamic trio of nine-hole loops. But unlike at McLemore, the most captivating bite enjoyed during dinner at the property’s classic steakhouse, Rare 1981, isn’t something new. Instead, it’s one of the resort’s classic dishes — a dessert that the resort’s culinary team has astutely kept on the menu, even as so many things around it have changed.

I most certainly have a sweet tooth, especially for particular dishes or specific types of baked goods. Bread pudding generally isn’t one of them. It’s mostly a textural issue, though I’ve often found the flavor of many bread puddings to be too subdued for my taste. The more I think about it, it’s really those two factors in tandem that almost always leave me wanting more.

Needless to say, I would’ve skipped over the Bourbon Pecan Bread Pudding at Saddlebrook Resort without even a moment’s hesitation. But because I was part of a larger dinner party, a smattering of sweet dishes were ordered for the entire table — including the bread pudding. It’s a good thing, too, as I almost missed out on what is arguably the best thing on the menu.

Rich and flavorful, the dessert wasn’t cloyingly sweet — a pleasant surprise given that it was laden with candied pecans, bourbon caramel, and accompanied by vanilla ice cream. Yes, the baked brioche was sweet, but it also boasted a bevy of baking spices (think cinnamon, dark brown sugar, cardamom). In many respects, the dish took the customary flavors of bourbon and presented them in pastry form. No wonder it’s a fan favorite.

If you’re like me — a typical bread pudding skeptic — hopefully this convinces you to give the Bourbon Pecan Bread Pudding a try, should you ever find yourself at Saddlebrook Resort. If, however, that’s a bridge that’s just too far, I recommend heading over to GOAT Kitchen & Bar, the resort’s take on an American tavern, where many of those same flavors reappear in a more classic form — bourbon pecan pie.